


Rewards

by twistedmiracle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, porn without much plot, wank fantasies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 02:29:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29992530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedmiracle/pseuds/twistedmiracle
Summary: Pulled from my dead Skyehawke account, thanks to the Wayback Machine.Sometimes I just want to get off. Buncha wank fantasies, basically, and OOC by damn near anyone's standards. Slavery, non-con, dub-con, gay sex, straight sex. harry/draco/pansy *Chapter eight added October 28, 2013.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Kudos: 8





	1. 1

The Wizengamot elder sank back into her large, plush chair and sighed.

"Of course I can try to explain it again, Mr. Potter, I simply… I don't see how this is so hard to understand."

Harry leaned forward slightly. "Humor me?"

"Of course, Mr. Potter." She smiled indulgently at him, then looked off at the ceiling for a few long moments. Harry strove not to tap his fingers on the arm of his own, rather welcoming chair. Just as he was deciding that since it was velvet she wouldn't hear him thrumming, she looked back at him. "I think I have it!" She sounded pleased.

"Mr. Potter. What do you think would happen if you were to open a storefront on Diagon Alley charging witches and wizards a few galleons for the privilege of sucking your cock?"

"What!" Harry felt his cheeks prickle painfully as he sat up hard and spluttered in shock. Wizengamot elders weren't supposed to talk like that!

But the elder was unperturbed. "Mr. Potter, I can tell you exactly what would happen. The line would stretch around the block. People would wait through the night to be first in line in the morning. There would be editorials in _The Daily Prophet_ about how you weren't charging enough, and fights would break out in the line over whether or not certain types of people, purebloods, for example, should even be permitted to offer you their mouths to fuck."

Harry stared in red-faced horror as the elder spoke, no blush on her cheeks, no hesitation in her voice, no sign of understanding how intensely, invasively wrong every syllable out of her mouth was.

"Would you like proof, Mr. Potter?"

"What?" It came out as a squeak. "I… I don't think…."

"Mr. Potter," she leaned forward and looked honestly eager. "May I please, that is to say…. I would very much like to give you a blowjob." She smiled a bright, innocent smile, like the schoolgirl she'd presumably been twenty or thirty years before. "I swallow, you know."

Harry found that while she might just, he could not. Speaking was out of the question. The miserable heat spread to his collarbone and below. Thank Merlin for the high neck on formal robes.

But the elder barreled on. "No? Perhaps another time? The offer stands, I assure you. You deserve that and more than I can give, after what you've done for us. You _died_ for us, Mr. Potter, and we all know it. You sacrificed yourself to save us all, and the magic brought you back to us, to shower with everything we can possibly give you.

"But, regrettably, we cannot allow you to open that storefront, as much as we all might like you to. It would disturb the rebuilding, you see. We would _all_ love to get on our knees and service you, or better, on our backs--" She winked as she spoke and Harry's face started to melt from the heat of his blush.

"--and just think how much manpower that would take away from the effort to fix everything! And we also desperately need people to be getting married and making babies as well, now don't we?"

Finally seeing, and misinterpreting, Harry's silent agitation, she patted his hand. "I don't mean you, of course, Mr. Potter! Goodness no, and you would understand that if you knew what I called you here to offer. No, we want you to father large numbers of children, preferably with multiple witches, but not until you've had a chance to experience our appreciation and receive your rewards."

She clapped her hands and four fully cloaked figures of varied heights and widths, herded by a pair of intimidating guards, shuffled in through a door Harry had not noticed. Since Harry couldn't see the prisoner's faces, he looked at the guards. He didn't recognize them, but was impressed by their bulk, their double-wanded weaponry, and their remarkably fearsome costumes of leather, metal and sparking, visible magic.

Then the elder's voice caught his attention and he managed to look back at her. He was grateful to feel that his face was cooling slightly. Whatever that… weirdness of a moment ago was, obviously he was being offered immediate entry to the Auror program. Or -- he looked at the guards again -- possibly something secret and even more exciting.

"One of these junior Death Eaters is to be your reward, Mr. Potter." She must have seen the confusion on his face, or perhaps she simply expected it after the bad start to their conversation, for she launched immediately into an explanation.

"All four of them were at Hogwarts with you, and none of them took the Dark Mark or committed murder. That we know of." She frowned. "However, all four of them committed crimes for which they must receive punishment. The Wizengamot, in her collective wisdom, has sentenced each of them to ten years of community service. Three very strenuous situations await the ones you do not choose. All three will be worked very hard!

"However, one of them will spend that ten years in your home, on their knees and back and however else you like, serving that…" -- she visibly swallowed an adjective and Harry heated further as he realized he would have liked to know what it was -- "cock of yours. You, of course, will choose which of them will be your toy for ten years. Then the other three will be sent to do other types of community service, as needed, for the same time period.

The elder seemed completely uninterested in Harry's silent discomfort and turned to the guards again. "Gentlemen?" She nodded at them and one of the four figures was prodded forward. This one was large and ungainly under the billowing cloak, and somehow Harry was unsurprised to see Gregory Goyle emerge. He shook his head quickly, "No," and one guard took Goyle back through the door, his leg irons clanking as the guard hurried him away.

The next figure turned out to be Pansy Parkinson, and Harry stumbled out of his chair. Getting an encouraging nod from the elder, he stepped next to Pansy, watching her fight the silencing charm that kept her from giving all of them her opinion. Goyle had been nearly naked, which Harry had done his best to ignore, but it was a good look for Parkinson. Harry circled her, his erection forming quickly and the blush again threatening to self-combust, but he did his best to ignore that as he appreciated the view of a young woman stripped to a loincloth and chains purely for his own amusement.

Hoping he didn't need to ask the elder first, he reached up slowly and caressed Parkinson's left breast. The nipple hardened quickly. Fascinated, he flicked it with a slow fingertip. Ginny had never let him get further than occasional petting with all buttons buttoned and zippers upright and locked. This was new and wonderful, and Harry's cock was hard to ignore under his heavy clothing.

Mostly ignoring Parkinson's still slightly puggish face as she ranted under her silencing charm, Harry drew all five fingertips around Parkinson's now thoroughly upright, crinkly nipple. It stood taller than his own, and was rosy where his own were brown. He drew his fingertips down Parkinson's side, from her breast, around to where her arms - pulled around her back with restraints, curved away. Then, watching her shiver with some sort of discomfort (ticklish?), he scratched down her soft skin, not stopping till he hit the loincloth, which was Gryffindor crimson with a bit of gold trim.

Thinking about nothing but those straining rose nipples, Harry leaned closer. He caught a glimpse of the elder and stood up fast. She winked at him and he backed away one step. He might be ready to do all manner of things to Pansy, but not in front of a Wizengamot elder! He closed his eyes and breathed in once, then out. Seeing the older woman's amusement again, he flushed. "Maybe," he offered, and the elder's smile could have lit up the room.

The next prisoner was a dumpy girl with spots and thick, curly blonde hair. Harry stared at her face for a few moments before realizing she had been on the inquisitorial squad with Pansy. Except… wasn't she a sixth year then? "Isn't she a year too old?" he asked the elder.

"She failed too many N.E.W.T.s and returned to try again," the elder explained. "She thought the Carrows would be lenient. They were, we weren't."

"No." Harry decided quickly, and a guard pulled her from the room. He was eager to know who the last prisoner was.

It turned out to be Draco Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry gave an abrupt, painful inhalation as Draco Malfoy's almost naked body was revealed. _This_ was the fourth of the Death Eaters he might choose as his personal sex slave for the next ten years?

He stared at Malfoy, whose blush rivaled his own. Harry stood tall. This was much more familiar ground. A girl? At his sexual mercy? For ten years? That was some sort of… porn movie. Exciting, but hard to believe.

But Malfoy? Living in his home, humiliated, on his knees, forced to do whatever Harry wanted, from dishes to apologies to corsets to ball gowns to leashes in public and all the way out to blow jobs? That was a petty, nasty, small-minded dream come true.

"Holy shit, Malfoy," he gloated. "Gotten yourself in a right tit now, haven't you?"

Malfoy, unable to answer, glared nails.

"Ooh," Harry muttered. "That's right. They've silenced you." He turned to the elder. "I want to talk _with_ him for a bit, right?"

The elder smiled indulgently, now that she saw Harry was interested in two of the gifts the Wizengamot had chosen to offer him. "Really Mr. Potter, you don't need to ask permission all the time."

"Of course," Harry stumbled, "I'm not accustomed to this. I'll be happy to get used to it, though, I think." He turned to the guard that had just returned from taking away the last reject. "Remove the _Silencio_."

The guard waved the wand in his left hand. Harry could hear most all the syllables of _Finite Incantatum_. Harry then looked at the Wizengamot elder and, blushing again, nodded toward the door. She cocked her head once, then stood and gathered the guards to her, walking toward a far corner of the room. Harry cast _Muffliato_ with an odd mingling of bashfulness and relief. He tried to wipe it off his face before he turned and caught Malfoy's eye.

"I have questions for you, Malfoy, and you will answer them as humbly and as simply as possible. A simple yes or no is best. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Draco grumbled.

"Are you gay?"

"Yes," Draco answered, very quiet.

"Excellent," Harry rubbed his hands together. Then, feeling rather stereotypical, he stopped.

He paced around behind Malfoy and lifted the skimpy suede rectangle to stare at his arse. It was very white, round and firm. Harry slapped it and Malfoy yelped, once. Harry watched the red handprint fade.

Harry returned his hand to Malfoy 's warm, firm buttock. He squeezed and felt the muscles tense. "Have you ever had a cock up your arse?"

"No."

Harry leaned in, placing a hand over Malfoy's tight, tense stomach, and spoke into Malfoy's ear, watching his breath disturb Malfoy's fine hair. "Have you ever had a cock in your mouth?"

"Yes."

Harry stepped back and circled around to look Malfoy in the face. He reached out and pinched Malfoy's nipple gently, then hard. Malfoy winced but remained silent and Harry rushed into his next question, hoping he'd thrown Malfoy off guard. "Was it a Death Eater's cock?"

"No!"

Harry watched the way Malfoy's face went shocked, indignant, revolted. He decided he'd been given the truth and stroked down both of Malfoy's sides as best he could. Like Parkinson, Malfoy's hands were chained tightly behind his back and Harry couldn't easily touch everything. He watched as Malfoy's tension eased, very slightly, but he could still see it. When the small relaxation was complete, he pinched both of Malfoy's nipples at once, just enough to make Malfoy tense again. He smiled at the tiny jump, watching. Malfoy grimaced. He'd seen Harry's smile. How very lovely.

"You said you've never been fucked in the arse?" It was fun to say. This power over Malfoy was getting intoxicating.

"No," Malfoy said, voice clipped and proud.

"Then have you ever stuck your cock in another person? Fanny or arse, either one?"

"Yes." Malfoy stood tall, looking miserable.

"Which?" Harry asked, stroking his hand indulgently across Malfoy's clenching abs. His skin was silky there, Harry decided. He wondered if it was silky like that all over Malfoy's body.

"Both."

"Whose arse?"

"Peter Hawkshead." At Harry's blank stare, Draco continued. "Slytherin, two years behind us."

"Anyone else?"

"No."

"Then whose fanny?"

"Hers," Draco almost whispered, and tipped his head toward Parkinson, whom Harry had damn near forgotten in his glee at humiliating Draco Malfoy.

"Ah!" Harry exclaimed, and looked at Parkinson, red-faced and scowling. "When?"

"Fifth year."

"So not after that Yule Ball, then." Malfoy stayed silent. "You said you were gay. Why did you fuck her?"

"I… wanted to be straight. And father said she wasn't good enough to marry."

Harry turned to Parkinson. "Same stipulations," he ordered, then turned to a guard. "Remove her _Silencio_."

"Why did you have sex with Malfoy?" He demanded.

"I wanted to," she responded, sullen and staring at the floor.

"Why?" Harry pushed.

"Because he's _mine_!" she yelped, then her face colored and she closed her eyes.

Harry turned to look at Malfoy, who looked quite thrown. "Pansy?" he whispered. "I told you…?" it wasn't a question but it turned up at the end nonetheless.

Parkinson remained silent, her face still red, her eyes still screwed shut.

Harry said nothing, vividly recalling the moment when this girl tried to throw him to Voldemort.

Malfoy looked at Harry and said nothing. His face was remarkably blank, considering everything.

Harry imagined the possibilities. Take Malfoy. Prove to Parkinson that Malfoy was gay. Force Malfoy to submit in every possible, delightful way.

Or take Parkinson and "defile" her repeatedly, so that no pureblood would have her to wife, no fancy Manor, no large bank account, no pretty Malfoy cock for her, ever again. Prove Lucius Malfoy right. Show Malfoy the one girl he ever had, ever would fuck, was a whore.

How to choose? Either way, he had the ability to humiliate and defile both of them.

He looked from one to the other. He: the pureblood prince, the childhood rival, the stamping foot, the bloody bathroom.

The no doubt tight arsehole, the pretty mouth, the ludicrously long legs, the round arse cheeks begging to be spanked and squeezed.

She: the foul mouth, the obsequious attitude for Malfoy that morphed into contempt for all others, the willingness to throw Harry - and the whole world - to the wolves.

The three tempting fuck holes of arse, cunt and mouth. The tits. He thought could find a way to fuck those, too, if he tried. The plump, soft curves. The hair already long enough to braid and wrap around a hook high up on a wall.

He looked at both of them. So similar: soft skin, trim bodies, pretty hair, hateful personalities.

Yes, both of them….

Grinning, Harry turned toward the elder. "I want them both."

The elder hesitated for the first time. "Mr. Potter," she hedged.

"No. I want them both. They'd just be… picking up garbage on Diagon Alley or something, I don't know."

He had a flash of inspiration and put his hands on the desk, leaning, eager to make his point. "They'd be taking away a job from some deserving witch or wizard that needs to feed their children, is what they'd be doing. And you said yourself how desperately the Wizengamot, and apparently everyone, wants me to be getting my rocks off constantly as a reward. Well, this is the reward I want. I want Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy both chained to my house and my cock -- figuratively, of course -- for ten full years.

"I want both of them in my house, beholden to my every sexual desire, and unable to refuse me a single request. I want to spend the next ten years with my cock, and my balls, and my arsehole, for that matter," Harry felt his ears were about to smoke from the heat, but he barreled on, "catered to by these two people, in any way I want.

"I want," he stood straight and looked the elder right in the eye, though he wanted to squirm away, "to forget how to masturbate."

She looked at him without any expression for a hot-then-cold painful moment, but Harry held his ground. The she tipped her chin to the left and allowed herself a tiny, crooked smile. "You know, Mr. Potter, while I couldn't possibly authorize your taking control of both of them, I can fully understand that you might need to… test them both out for a few days, before you choose which of them is to be your…" she paused and her grin, and tone, grew self-satisfied. "… long term choice."

"A few days?" he pushed again, dropping his volume and squaring his shoulders. "I'm a healthy eighteen-year-old man. I have a voracious sexual appetite. I want them both."

"Of course you do! Who wouldn't want them both? But I am sure that after a few days, or possibly a few weeks?" She looked Harry in the eyes and he thought he understood her now. "You'll be more able to tell us, at your leisure you understand, which of them you intend to keep for the full ten years."

Harry stared at her eyes briefly, then nodded.

She turned toward her desk and beckoned at it with her wand. A drawer opened and a thin packet of papers drifted towards them.

She shuffled through and pulled out a bit of parchment. She muttered and tapped it with her wand, and through the thin vellum Harry saw that a few more words appeared.

 _Must be Parkinson and Malfoy's names_ , he decided.

"Sign here?" the elder asked. And Harry read through the simple words, and signed.


	3. Chapter 3

By the authority granted us by the citizens of wizarding England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales, we the Wizengamot hereby unanimously grant to Harry Potter the service, body and life of one convicted criminal: _Draco Malfoy / Pansy Parkinson_ , to last no more or less than ten years from this day, June 15, 1998.

By accepting this human boon, Mr Potter agrees to treat his servant _Draco Malfoy / Pansy Parkinson_ within the following conditions:  
Mr Potter agrees to have his servant _Draco Malfoy / Pansy Parkinson_ tested for sexually transmitted disease on a weekly basis.  
Mr Potter agrees to have his servant _Draco Malfoy / Pansy Parkinson_ treated by St Mungos in event of any manner of disease or injury.  
Mr Potter takes responsibility for the costs of room and board for his servant _Draco Malfoy / Pansy Parkinson_. A stipend of fifteen galleons/month will be provided to assist in the offset of these expenses.  
Mr Potter agrees to the general nature of his servant's confinement as intended: a punishment for crimes against the wizarding world.

Mr Potter is granted full control of his servant _Draco Malfoy / Pansy Parkinson_ , to be limited only in the restriction that permanent bodily harm (not including permanent marks of slavery / sexual servitude, to be imposed at Mr Potter's discretion) up to and including death, is prohibited. Mr Potter is explicitly granted every other physical, intellectual and sexual right to _Draco Malfoy / Pansy Parkinson_. This service is, indeed, primarily intended as sexual service, as befits a hero and liberator of Mr Potter's grand status.

It is with the granting of this sex slave _Draco Malfoy / Pansy Parkinson_ that the Wizengamot and wizarding world hereby discharge our debt to open our collective mouths and legs to Mr Potter and take him as we, grateful cowards that we are, deserve.

It is only in the desire to protect law and order that the Wizengamot grants Mr Potter this boon of a sexual slave in lieu of the standard and traditional reward of a national savior. And it is in humble gratitude that we accept his signature on this parchment and willingness to forgo his long-established and time-honored rights to otherwise take temporary sexual custody of anyone and everyone of age that he might choose.

Signed, the body of the Wizengamot

 _Harry Potter_  
Harry Potter

"I can't help but notice that I clearly _could_ open that storefront you mentioned, if I liked."

The elder failed to hide her wince. "Yes, of course you could. But we are grateful that you've chosen not to."

Harry stretched in self-satisfaction. He'd never felt so confident, sexually or otherwise. He liked it. "Frankly, not only does this seem like more fun, but I don't really doubt my ability to convince damn near anyone to bend over for me. Not after you _yourself_ offered to blow me not half an hour ago. This way I can have the best of both worlds. Now," he leaned over the desk and pointed at the parchment. "Maybe I should have asked about this before I signed. Can you explain this part about _permanent marks of slavery / sexual servitude_?"


	4. Chapter 4

It turned out that, as the contract implied, the Wizengamot hadn't invented this for Harry, but had instead drawn on some old traditions and laws. The only truly interesting part was that he now had the right to get both Malfoy and Parkinson tattooed. He only had to decide exactly what, and where.

Finally, Harry was done with studying the paperwork. He could have learned more, but he no longer cared. He'd been a virgin far too long. "May I have your office for a bit?" he requested.

Even after everything that had already happened that day, he was still a bit shocked that she simply winked, gathered the guards, and left. He took a deep breath and looked at his new slaves. He knew exactly what he wanted first.

"All right Parkinson, get on your knees and suck my cock. Just till I stop you, though. I'm going to come in your fanny, not your mouth."

"Malfoy, you stand behind me, stroke my shoulders, and kiss my neck and ears. Neither of you may talk." He paused and considered this for a moment. He wasn't in the mood for disobedience or a battle of wits. Hell, he usually lost those contests where people insulted one another. He certainly wasn't in the mood to spend the afternoon, or the next ten years, arguing with these two about the relative worth of anybody's mother, bloodline or bank account.

"As a matter of fact," he mumbled, and pointed his wand at Parkinson's head. " _Imperio_." Her eyes went glassy and she sank gracefully to her knees.

Harry turned to Malfoy. "You? No Imperius for you. I want to see the hatred in your eyes. But if you do anything… difficult? Both of you will be punished. So do as you are told." Malfoy's eyes blazed quite prettily as he hesitated, nodded once, and stepped behind Harry. His hands and mouth felt so good that the gentle touch almost distracted him from Parkinson's fumblings with his clothes, but when her lips accepted the thrusting head and then shaft of his cock, Malfoy nearly ceased to exist.

Parkinson's mouth was far more pleasant put to use around a straining erection than permitted to spout bullshit in the great hall. Harry soon regained himself enough to put his hands in her hair and experiment with taking control of the fucking motion. This felt too fabulous if he wanted to bend her over the elder's desk, so he pushed her away and positioned her as he liked. She was too short for him to be able to push his cock in right away, and he spent a few long, frustrating moments adjusting the height of the shoes he'd kicked off and transfigured into blocks to raise her off the floor. When she finally seemed to be at the right height, he grabbed his cock and pressed toward her. She was slightly slippery, and he didn't know where his cockhead was meant to go.

"Malfoy, spread her arsecheeks apart."

"Parkinson, tell me, higher? Lower?"

Once he made his way into the intended hole, he began his slide. It was only five or six inches of his anatomy, but she was more than moist, and it felt like his entire body was immersed in the silkiest, warmest honey. He managed to hold off his orgasm until he was fully inside her, then he came harder than he'd ever come in his life.

He'd have liked to hide it from his new slaves, but he knew they could tell, and while his eyes were still closed he considered his next move. "Malfoy, get on your knees and suck me till I'm hard again," he ordered, and he opened his eyes in time to see Malfoy swallow miserably.

Score one for the boy who lived.

When he released Parkinson from _Imperio_ he nearly smiled at how miserable she looked. Her face hid nothing, and as Harry knew, once out from underneath _Imperio_ , one remembered the entire experience.

Once he got them home he called his new house elf. Dudders was a gift from a grateful witch in Kent whose three children had all survived the battle of Hogwarts. Kreacher really seemed to appreciate the company.

"Dudders, these are my new sex slaves. Do you understand?" Malfoy and Parkinson were just standing there, so Harry dragged Parkinson over and slung an arm over her shoulder. He reached down to fondle one of her tits and she flinched, then corrected herself. Malfoy moved closer at a glance and nod from Harry, and Harry reached under the loincloth to fondle Malfoy's round little arse.

Dudders bowed deeply. "Dudders understands, sir. Master is a great hero to be so honoured."

Harry smiled and let go of Parkinson to pat Dudders' head. Dudders stood taller. "I'm taking them both up to my bedroom, but I want you to make up two pallets in the basement. I don't expect to sleep with them after I fuck them."

Harry frowned, a half-formed picture of warmth, comfort and not-alone-ness teasing at the edges of his mind.

"At least, not both of them at once. The pallets should be clean, on the floor, and only just large enough. Oh, and they should be able to see one another, but set up the magic to not only shackle them into bed, but prevent masturbation. And silence the area as well. I won't have them chatting together at night while I sleep." Dudders nodded and popped into thin air. Harry didn't notice.

"Kreacher!" he called, and Kreacher appeared from around the corner. His eyes got enormous, but he said nothing.

"Yes, they are what you think they are," Harry explained. "I want you to measure them both and go out to a few shops and buy them both a large assortment of clothing. Nothing for regular wear. I want leather, latex rubber, sex toys, corsets, bondage gear, skimpy costumes, anything you can buy. Make sure you can return it if I don't happen to like it. All right?"

Kreacher nodded and held his wrinkled little hands out toward the slaves. A tape measure appeared and danced around first Parkinson, then Malfoy. It vanished, then Kreacher bowed and vanished as well.

Harry started up the stairs. "Follow me to my room, both of you. I plan to find out how many times I can come in one day without magical assistance."

He didn't bother showing them around. Once they arrived in his bedroom he turned to face them, opening his trousers just enough to pull out his dick, still soft after two recent orgasms. "Parkinson, get on your knees in front of me and suck me. Don't try to make me come, just give me pleasure."

"Malfoy, remove all of my clothing, like a servant. Treat every item with care, and don't get in Parkinson's way."

"I can't keep calling you two by your names like this," Harry mused as Pansy knelt in front of him and began tonguing his soft cock. "You need nicknames. I think…" he tipped Pansy's chin and looked into her eyes. "You might do well to answer to 'Mouth.' It reminds me of that day you opened your mouth, trying to send me to Voldemort," - both slaves cringed - "but instead I tricked him into killing himself. With Malfoy's wand."

"And Malfoy? I'll start with… 'Hole.' Because you're going to wish you'd been thrown in one, but instead you've become two. No man has ever pushed his cock into your tight little virgin arse. I can hardly wait to be the first. Your mouth looks to be a good fuck hole as well. And that about sums up your worth as something that takes up space on earth."

As he felt himself hardening in his sex slave's mouth, Harry tipped his head back and laughed.


	5. Chapter 5

"Really Mr Potter," the tattoo artist gushed. "I couldn't possibly charge you. This is an honor."

Harry leaned back. He'd deliberately chosen the comfortable chair. "And once everyone hears Scrivener's did these, your business will go through the roof, I expect."

Scrivener looked toward Harry's chin and smiled. "Well," he said.

"That's fine," Harry decided. "You were recommended by someone I trust."

Scrivener spread the blank parchment flat, then stuck it to a tablet with his wand and a murmur. "Please do explain the tattoo you were hoping for, Mr Potter."

Harry snapped his fingers and Malfoy emerged from the shadows. After only three days at Harry's house he still allowed his grumpiness to show, he rolled his eyes sometimes, and he was often slow to follow orders.

Harry liked it. It gave him excuses to punish Malfoy, for one thing, but more importantly he loved that Malfoy hated being here.

"Bend over the table, Hole."

Malfoy arranged himself slowly over the coffee table, obviously uncomfortable. He lay nude over a hard, rectangular table, arse up and dick dangling. Harry smiled at his slave's ridiculous posture before turning to Scrivener again. He carelessly dropped one hand onto the small of Malfoy's back.

He'd been thinking about this almost nonstop since his first night home with two sex slaves. He felt clear that "permanent marks of slavery / sexual servitude" needed to be attractive, representative and creative. And while it should reference Harry's reasons for having two slaves in the first place, it must not overtly reference Voldemort himself. No lightning bolts or snakes. No yew or Master wands. He'd finally woken from a dead sleep the night before with an image pressed against his mind's eye. He'd quickly scribbled the basics of it onto a scrap of parchment and after breakfast called on the tattooist the Elder had raved about.

"Oh yes, I can do that easily. Would you like there to be magic built into it?"

Harry paused. "What would be available?"

Scrivener pulled parchment from his briefcase. "It's all outlined here, Mr Potter, but the three most likely options in your circumstance are desire and pleasure control. I can change the tattoo to allow you to bring your slaves to orgasm, prevent their orgasm, or cause them to desire you. Other options less useful to you would be obedience, because of course you are free to Imperius slaves; and causing discomfort, but with a slave one has so many simpler options. It is also possible under some circumstances to add two or even three elements to the tattoo, but that's not always possible."

Harry leaned back into the couch and nodded at Scrivener to go on.

"It would depend primarily on the slave's innate magic. Only a fairly strong witch or wizard could sustain as many as three magical components to a slave tattoo. Since through history few strongly magical people have landed themselves in sexual slavery, it is rare for one to be capable of sustaining three. However, with your slaves, it would certainly be worth an attempt, if you wished. Historically speaking, their situation is quite unusual. Their age is a factor in your favour as well."

"Surely it isn't unusual for new slaves to be seventeen or so? Onset of legal adulthood?"

"Oh, no sir!" Scrivener leaned back, crossing his fingers over his knee. "Historically, sexual servitude tended to begin around twelve or thirteen."

Harry winced.

Scrivener looked sympathetic. "Yes, distasteful to the modern mind, but there it is. At any rate, most of these tattoos were given before the slave's magic had a chance to mature. So if you wished for two or even three forms of control, I recommend trying. There would be little risk to you."

"But… to the slave?" Harry wondered vaguely, thinking the tattoist was implying something.

"Yes," he frowned. "There is a slightly increased risk of magical or even physical scarring to the slaves, but it shouldn't affect their ability to please you sexually."

"Aesthetically, though?"

"I suppose it depends on your attachment to that exact area of their bodies, as if there were visible scarring it would be quite localized. Here, let me demonstrate. May I?" Scrivener leaned over and pulled a large yellow penis from his bag.

Harry shuddered for a moment. Despite the color and the large flat base, it looked disconcertingly like it had just been removed from a real man.

Scrivener waved his wand and muttered, and the yellow thing glistened in the candlelight. "Lubricant," he said, nodding at Harry's confusion.

"The whole procedure needs to be done while you are fucking him, Sir. We'll place a blurring charm on you, so I can't see your penis. All my clients ask for it."

"You do this a lot?" Harry really hadn't expected that.

"Not this exact sort of tattoo, of course," Scrivener chuckled, "but similar magic. Married couples often enjoy reciprocal, modified sexual slavery tattoos. I've done both the orgasm magics and even pain magic for several dozen couples.

"As I was saying, the magic won't set properly if you aren't taking him while I complete the ink and magic. You'll also have to orgasm inside him at a very specific time during the ritual, but I can help you control that, that won't be an issue. So, let's just spread his legs a bit here, and…." Scrivener gestured a press and Harry took the dildo, glancing at it. It was about the same size as himself, and he realized that meant he must be of average size. Perhaps even smaller than average. That was a bit distasteful.

Shrugging, Harry plowed the dildo deep into Malfoy's arse with one swift shove. Malfoy groaned and Harry smacked his hip. "Shut it, Hole."

"Now let's see if I understand the picture you wanted, all right? Can you twist that dildo around a bit, pull it out and back while I do a mockup here?"

Harry nodded and grasped the bright yellow base.

Scrivener removed a remarkably thin, short wand from his bag and touched it to Malfoy's lower back. Distractedly, Harry attempted to remember that was supposed to be slowly fucking his slave with the dildo instead of concentrating all his attention on the artwork.

Muttering Latin under his breath, Scrivener began painting Malfoy's skin. He encouraged Harry to jump in with advice.

"Make the sword a bit longer, will you?

"Can you make it look more golden? Less bronze?

"Fawkes was much redder, really. Oh yes, just that color.

"Can we have the words in my handwriting?

"The stone is too distracting. Can you make it more of an outline, but still show color?"

Malfoy was annoyingly silent after that first groan, but his arse gave no resistance to the dildo anymore.

"When we do the female slave's tattoo, does it matter where I stick my cock?"

"Cunt or arse, you mean?"

Harry nodded.

"Yes, you really ought to fuck her arse, too. Assuming you want her tattoo in the same place, that is. With the caveat that you need to be inside the recipient's body, the closer your penis is to the tattoo, the better. If you wanted it on her tits, for example, you'd want to be in her throat."

"Mm," Harry agreed, and shoved the dildo into Malfoy's arse again.

"Now, is this the way you'd like his tattoo to look?"

Harry released the dildo and Scrivener obligingly pressed the base up toward Malfoy's body so it wouldn't slide onto the floor. Harry framed the art with both hands and took a good look at it.

Malfoy's lower back now shined with a large 'X' with a circle around it. The right leg of the 'X' was a bright red phoenix feather, the other leg was a very narrow version of the sword of Gryffindor, and the circle around them stated 'Property of Harry James Potter.' Behind it all glowed the irregular red chunk of the philosopher's stone. The whole picture stood about seven inches tall and five inches wide.

Harry let go of Malfoy's back. "Yes, that looks exactly as I pictured it. You do good work, Scrivener. When can we get started?"

Three hours later, Harry's slaves collapsed on their pallets asleep, exhausted from their unusual ordeal. But their magic had apparently held and the identical tattoos were remarkably handsome, even on their different skin tones. Harry decided that once they'd had a few hours to sleep it off, he'd be testing the ability to first bring them both to orgasm untouched and at his will, then cause them to desire him, and finally to prevent them from coming. Legilimency would assist him in knowing how successful Scrivener had truly been in achieving Harry's first two goals. As for the third, well, if they still hadn't had an orgasm by the end of the week, he'd assume that one had worked as well.

Scrivener Flooed away smiling and Harry stretched out in front of his fire, wondering what sort of biscuit Kreacher and Dudders would surprise him with this afternoon.


	6. Chapter 6

A mere two days after Scrivener left, the doorbell rang again: the sound chiming softly throughout the house. Frowning, Harry walked to the parlour, awaiting his house elf and his unexpected guest. He considered changing into something more presentable than track bottoms and a ragged tee shirt, but decided "Fuck it. Who the hell shows up uninvited on a Tuesday at one in the afternoon?"

The unattractive little man in lime green Healer's robes squeaked out nervously: "Healer Afelgate. At your service, Mr Potter!" as Dudders showed him into the parlour.

Dudders looked up at Harry, distressed. It was his responsibility to announce the guest, but Afelgate had beaten him to it.

Harry smiled at Dudders and waved him off before speaking to Afelgate. "Thank you, Dudders. It's fine," he said, and reassured, Dudders closed the door behind him, leaving Harry alone with a glowing, earnest, uncertain Healer.

"What can I do for you, Healer?" Harry asked. He'd been thinking seriously about fucking Mouth and then taking a nap. He'd discovered that sleeping from around 4 or 5am until 10 or so in the morning, and then napping every day after lunch, was a very pleasant way to live. Feeling sour, he did not offer the Healer a chair, and Afelgate did not try to sit in one.

"Did they not tell you I was coming?" Afelgate said nervously. "The Wizengamot, I mean? It's time for their weekly sexually transmitted disease checkup. I guess the Wizengamot assumed that you'd have a lot of partners. Or perhaps that you would share the slaves with your friends, or something?"

"Oh," Harry said slowly. "They didn't mention you by name, or tell me they'd set up the appointment, but now that you mention it, yeah, I remember. There's something in the contract about this." He frowned at Afelgate again. "I was hoping for someone a little more…."

Nothing that wasn't horrifically rude came to mind, and Harry let the phrase fall dead, incomplete.

"Well," Afelgate said, looking unhappy, "it doesn't have to be me in future. This is simple medimagic in theory. I suppose if someone in the house managed to contract something truly nasty…."

The Healer shivered, and Harry cringed. So far he hadn't bothered sharing his slaves around. Truthfully, he hadn't given the idea much thought. And while he loved the idea of fucking lots of pretty girls and boys he met out in Hogsmeade or Diagon, he wasn't quite ready for that yet. There was, after all, the not unimportant matter that - in comparing his dick with porn stars, and Malfoy's, and that ugly yellow dildo Scrivener had brought, he'd learned that his cock wasn't very big. He was thinking surely magic could fix that, but he'd never happened upon a spell that would enlarge his dick, and he was loathe - unsurprisingly with this one - to ask Hermione for help.

"They should be clean so far," he said, feeling tired. "Kreacher!"

Kreacher appeared near the door, bowing slightly, and Harry told him to fetch Mouth and Hole.

"I mean, I haven't done anything all that adventurous to them yet," Harry said, feeling slightly defensive. He was about to explain himself further, but Afelgate interrupted.

"Of course, Mr Potter!" he said, looking horrified at the idea that he'd even considered judging the way Harry Potter chose to use, or abuse, his sex slaves. "I didn't mean to imply anything at all! Simply to say that you should be able to request whatever Healer you like, and any of us should be able to fix practically anything: any disease, any injury; that one of your slaves might turn up with. Any exceptions could be taken care of at St Mungo's, but those exceptions would be very rare, indeed."

"Good," Harry said, feeling somewhat relieved. "Then next week I want the hottest, youngest, female Healer on staff. Owl photos if there are multiple possibilities. Send pictures of the hot guys, too," Harry said impulsively. "I expect I'll pick two, and they can alternate weeks."

He looked at Afelgate, who nodded enthusiastically, and the door opened to admit two nearly naked slaves, both scowling at the floor, as they often did.

"Over there, against the wall," Harry barked at them, and they shuffled toward a bare space where he now often had them wait.

"How does this work?" Harry said to the healer. The healer, however, was staring wide-eyed at Harry's sex slaves, who wore little more than the pretty golden chains and tiny loincloth style outfits Harry had originally brought them home in.

Kreacher had brought home a trunk full of slutty, humiliating clothing options for Harry to try on his slaves. A trunk _each_. Harry had decided to try it all out very slowly. So far he hadn't even tried one new option each day, and this is what his slaves defaulted to wearing otherwise.

He supposed it wasn't a good sign that he was already so accustomed to their sexy, ridiculous, little outfits. He preened internally then, realizing that the annoying little healer had an erection now that Harry could see even though those awful lime green robes. For _Harry's_ sex slaves. Who were obviously, objectively hot. Even to ugly little middle aged healers. And they were both Harry's to fuck as he wished. "Brilliant," he thought, and grinned.

Blushing bright red and starting to stammer, the healer turned back to Harry. "Suh… suh… Sir?" he finally choked out.

"I said," Harry said, now feeling quite magnanimously patient, "how does this work? How do you test them for these injuries and venereal diseases and such?" He grinned, watching a look of horror bloom on Mouth's face. She couldn't hide hers nearly as well as Hole hid his. Though Harry - who knew him pretty well - could still sort of see the anger there.

"Well," the healer said, "I could do a simple once over with my wand, or, if you like, I could do a more thorough physical examination." He had a hopeful look now.

"What would that entail?" Harry said, finally sitting down. Grinning. "Would it humiliate them?" He grinned wider, to show the healer that he should please find a way to say yes, the exam would be humiliating.

"Well," the healer said slowly, staring at Harry now, apparently feeling him out on this, "I looked over their medical records before I came here, and there are no thorough physical examinations on record for either of them since before they reached this stage of life. Her last thorough exam was when she was eleven, from just before she began Hogwarts. It no longer holds much medical value.

"His was more recent, but it's still woefully out of date, having been accomplished when he was merely fourteen. If you wished me to check them thoroughly, I would take a bit of blood, bile, urine and feces from each of them for testing, do a breast exam and a pelvic exam on her, do a testicular exam on him, er…."

"Sounds marvelous," Harry decided out loud. "Please, go right ahead. I'll be right here, watching."

"Ah!" The healer said, looking both sexually excited and slightly horrified. "Of course, Mr Potter!" He walked over toward the slaves, pulling parchment from his pocket and waving his wand. The parchment hung in the air and the healer began to cast. Words began to appear on the parchment and Harry walked over to look at it. Test results were appearing.

Female:  
Amebiasis: Negative  
Bacterial Vaginosis: Negative  
Campylobacter Fetus: Negative  
Candidiasis: Negative  
Chancroid: Negative  
Chlamydia: Negative  
Condyloma Acuminata: Negative  
Cytomegalovirus: Negative  
Enteric Infections: Negative  
Genital Mycoplasmas: Negative  
Genital Warts (HPV): Negative  
Giardiasis: Negative  
Gonorrhea: Negative  
Granuloma Inguinale: Negative  
Hepatitis: Negative  
Herpes: Negative  
HIV Disease: Negative  
Lymphogranuloma Venereum: Negative  
Molluscum Contagiosum: Negative  
Pediculosis Pubis: Negative  
Pubic Lice (Crabs): Negative  
Salmonella: Negative  
Scabies: Negative  
Shingellosis: Negative  
Syphilis: Negative  
Trichomoniasis: Negative  
Yeast Infection: Negative  
Vaginitis: Negative  
Vaginal injury/damage: Negative  
Anal injury/damage: Negative  
Facial injury/damage: Negative  
General injury/damage: Negative

Male:  
Amebiasis: Negative  
Bacterial Vaginosis: Negative  
Campylobacter Fetus: Negative  
Candidiasis: Negative  
Chancroid: Negative  
Chlamydia: Negative  
Condyloma Acuminata: Negative  
Cytomegalovirus: Negative  
Enteric Infections: Negative  
Genital Mycoplasmas: Negative  
Genital Warts (HPV): Negative  
Giardiasis: Negative  
Gonorrhea: Negative  
Granuloma Inguinale: Negative  
Hepatitis: Negative  
Herpes: Negative  
HIV Disease: Negative  
Lymphogranuloma Venereum: Negative  
Molluscum Contagiosum: Negative  
Pediculosis Pubis: Negative  
Pubic Lice (Crabs): Negative  
Salmonella: Negative  
Scabies: Negative  
Shingellosis: Negative  
Syphilis: Negative  
Trichomoniasis: Negative  
Yeast Infection: Negative  
Vaginitis: Negative  
Anal injury/damage: Negative  
Facial injury/damage: Negative  
General injury/damage: Negative

"Uh," Harry said, amused. "I doubt he'd have, uh, 'Vaginitis'?"

"Oh!" The healer said, clearly surprised. "Indeed not, Mr Potter! Quite right! But I feel it is always best to be thorough! What if," he said, with a slightly shocked look on his face, as though he couldn't believe he was saying this, "you had polyjuiced him into a female form, and he caught an STD while being, er… _used_ in that way?"

"Indeed," Harry said, grinning. He'd not really considered polyjuicing Hole into anyone, let alone a girl. That was a fairly brilliant idea. He could tell the healer knew he liked it, and that the healer had given it to him. Harry grinned conspiratorially at Afelgate, deciding the man deserved a nice tip at the end of all this.

The healer pulled multiple vials from a hidden robe pocket, and, casting swiftly, he magically extracted multiple substances from the slaves into the vials. The vials hung in the air and the healer cast spells at each of them. More words appeared on the two parchments, and Harry tried to read them, but it was all mumbo-jumbo to him. he turned to the healer with a question on his face.

"Basically, Mr Potter, what that says is that they are both in very fine health. For a more thorough examination, however," Afelgate said, now looking slightly embarrassed, "I'll need to put down my wand and use my hands."

"Sounds old-fashioned," Harry said, feeling cheeky.

"A little," Afelgate agreed, looking more serious. "But I like to be thorough."

"You want to start with the bitch?" Harry asked. He could tell Afelgate's erection was for Mouth. He could hardly take his eyes off her.

"As you wish," Afelgate said, but he looked eager.

"I do," Harry said, liking the little man more and more. "Does she need to lie down?"

"For the pelvic," Afelgate agreed, "that would be quite helpful."

Harry remembered things he'd seen in Muggle doctor's offices, and - concentrating - he transfigured a reclining chair into a passable looking medical table. "Will that do?"

"A fine start!" Afelgate said enthusiastically, and bade Mouth remove her "outfit" and sit on it. Looking quite unnerved, she obeyed.

"Why don't you start with her tits," Harry said. He had an idea.

"As you wish, Mr Potter," Afelgate said seriously, but he was already caressing her breasts with both hands.

"I want you to be most thorough," Harry told Afelgate, grinning nastily at Mouth, who was nearly snarling at him. "I'd like more than a health check on her tits, actually. I'd really like your opinion on them as a man, as a man who has touched and looked at a lot of tits. You should check her health, but then I want to know what else you think."

"Oh," Afelgate half moaned, and he pushed her down hard to lie flat on the table, and began to quickly grip and press at her breasts in sections.

"No… no unusual lumps," he sort of whispered loudly, and the words appeared on his parchment. "Young women tend to have a lot of lumpy masses in their breasts," he said, explaining to Harry now, "but nothing here feels like cancer. It's all exactly what I would expect from a…" he gulped slightly. "Seventeen year old female."

"Good, good," Harry said. "But you should probably test her with your mouth too. Lips are very sensitive." Afelgate looked slightly astonished, so Harry explained.

"She's a sex slave, Afelgate. She's not a normal patient. She doesn't have privacy rights anymore. I want to know that my fuck toys measure up to what my friends would find in fine whorehouses and such. Eventually she's going to have a new cock in her fanny every time she turns around." Harry tried to give Afelgate a significant look. It didn't seem to work, so he tipped his face down, and looked at Afelgate over the tops of his glasses. Afelgate turned bright pink and swallowed.

"Exactly," Harry said, smiling again. Neither of them bothered to see what Mouth thought of any of this. Afelgate pulled her up into a sitting position and, taking her left tit into both hands, he bent forward, closed his eyes, and sucked her nipple and areola into his mouth. "MMMmmmooooohhhhh…." Afelgate moaned in apparent ecstasy as he licked and sucked one, then the other, then both of her breasts.

Fuck, this healer really liked Mouth's tits. Harry squirmed a little. He was getting an erection himself now, and while he could call Hole over to suck him off this second if he so much as snapped his fingers, he didn't particularly want to show off his cock.

"What's next on your list?" Harry asked abruptly, getting annoyed.

Afelgate reluctantly pulled away from Mouth's wet breasts with his mouth, but one of his hands remained, caressing slowly.

"Er, pelvis." Afelgate swallowed again. "Lie down," he said, and pulling her breast away from the healer's hand, Mouth lay down.

Afelgate plucked his wand from his robe pocket and added odd metal contraptions to the end of the table.

"Scoot down now, …" he said, pausing awkwardly, like he wanted to call Mouth "Miss" or "Pansy."

Mouth moved down some, and the healer took her feet and put them into the straps of the metal contraptions. "Down further," he said, and Mouth obeyed.

"What the hell?" Harry said, rather fascinated.

"I'm not surprised you've not seen this before, Mr Potter. This is how we give women an internal pelvic exam. When I need to examine a man internally, I have him stand and bend over."

Harry nodded. He couldn't think of anything to say, but he could tell Mouth was hating this, and that was thrilling.

Afelgate pulled Mouth's arse to the very end of the table, then he looked at Harry. "This is normally done with a wand, Mr Potter, but I gather you'd like me to use my hands?" He was grinning now, and looked hopeful.

"All three, actually, Afelgate," Harry said.

"My wand and both my hands?" Afelgate said, looking slightly surprised.

"No, your wand, then your hands, then your cock," Harry said. I've decided that you should fuck her. I'm hopeful that you'll think of it as a little… present. From me to you. But really, I shall have to insist."

"That, er, that won't be a hardship, Sir," Afelgate said, "but if you wouldn't mind, I'd particularly appreciate the chance to do both examinations in the entire, first?"

"Sure thing," Harry said. He leaned against the table and grinned at Afelgate, who already had a hand deep into Mouth's fanny. Then Harry looked at Mouth. She looked furious, so he winked at her.

"No anomalies," Afelgate said. "She feels quite perfect." He spread her cunt apart and looked at what he saw there. Curious, Harry looked as well. He'd already fucked her in there more times than he could count, and enjoyed her arsehole plenty as well, but he'd never just _looked_ at this part of her body.

"Two sets of labia, the inner and outer lips," Afelgate said, showing Harry what these were. "Clitoris. As sensitive as a cockhead, but the rest of that cock-like tissue is inside her body, not outside, like you and I." He rubbed tentatively at Mouth's clitoris, and when she sighed slightly, he rubbed harder. "This is where women get sexual pleasure," he told Harry seriously. "The nice thing about a sex slave is that while you certainly don't have to care about her sexual pleasure, you can nonetheless learn from her body. I assume the Wizengamot explained that they want you to eventually father a lot of babies."

Harry frowned. "They said a little about that, not much."

"Well," Afelgate said, still caressing Mouth's clit with one hand, and allowing his other hand to wander up to stroke one of her tits, "there's no hurry, but within two, or maybe three years, if you push back hard, they will start insisting that you begin interviewing virgins for the privilege of carrying your children. Those babies will mostly be raised by their grandparents, as you'll be impregnating a lot of young teenage girls. Although you'll also be able to choose boys, if you wish. There's good magic for that now.

"You probably ought to have the ministry hire an older woman that you trust and like, to interview the families who want you to impregnate their daughters. With what I know of the war, I'd imagine top of your list would be war heroines like Andromeda Tonks and Molly Weasley.

"I'd also suggest you make the potential mother's virginity a part of the interview process. That way you can fuck them all, whether or not you decide that she'd be a good biological mother, or her parents good parents to your child."

Absently, considering this new information, Harry put a casual hand on Mouth's belly. Her skin was very soft, and he liked to stroke her there. Afelgate pulled his hand from Mouth's tit and stilled the hand that rested on her cunt.

"Why does the ministry want me to father a lot of children with virgins?"

Afelgate clearly loved tutoring Harry, and he launched into another explanation. "The virgins thing is because you're a national hero, and it is assumed that you deserve virgins. That's just ancient ideas, ancient understandings of what men prefer. We can easily make sure that a girl isn't already pregnant with another man's child before allowing her into your bed, though. Even you can do that. It's just a simple version of a revealing spell.

"So if you want a girl who isn't a virgin, you can add her to your program yourself. That's not law, that's just… a honor for you. The virgins, I mean. But the babies? We want your bloodline all over these Isles, Mr Potter. It is understood that a man like you, well." Afelgate spread out both his hands. "Your magic, your courage, your abilities… we want dozens and dozens of children to inherit your qualities, Mr Potter. The ministry will give each mother a large stipend, and they will keep careful track of all the babies as they grow. They might even choose to set up a special school just for your children, should you father enough. At least, I've heard gossip about that around Mungo's."

"Huh," Harry said, a bit shocked.

"I can see this is a bit of a surprise, Mr Potter," Afelgate said, frowning. "I hope I haven't overstepped my bounds."

"No, no," Harry said, still feeling off balance. "I'm glad to know. I have a lot to think about, all of a sudden."

Then he looked down. His hand had wandered to Mouth's tits, and they felt deliciously round and soft in his hands.

"But you should finish up the exams. I'm sure you have plenty of work to do back at the hospital, and I was going to nap before dinner."

"Of course, Mr Potter, of course!"

"He began to push hard all around Mouth's belly. Then he took up his wand, waved it, and frowned at the result.

"Have you been pregnant, girl?"

"I've had no babies," she spat at him angrily, and Harry slapped her across the face.

"Answer the question he _asked_ , Mouth," Harry said sternly, and Mouth looked scared.

"Yes," she whispered.

Hole gasped from his spot in the corner.

"Did you abort via potion or spell?" the healer asked. "And how many times?"

"Twice," Mouth whispered. "Potions. The first one was a miscarriage."

"Well, that explains all these kidney stones," the healer said grimly. "Young woman, this is going to hurt like hell." He waved his wand again, one finger still deep in Mouth's body, moving strangely.

Mouth tensed up suddenly, then tensed further. Then she moaned pitifully.

Harry cast _Silencio_ on Mouth's upper half, and the healer seemed to appreciate it. He withdrew his finger from within Mouth and showed Harry a tiny crystalline rock on the end of his finger. It looked a bit like a chunk of nasty granola, or rock candy gone the colour of piss.

"I have to coax them out of her kidney, into her bladder, and down the urethra," Afelgate said. "This was the smallest one. There are four more. It's a rather shocking number for a seventeen year old, which is how I surmised she had been pregnant and had ended it artificially. That potion, its strongest side effect is kidney stones. But pregnancy can cause them as well."

He sighed. "Normally I use pain relief for procedures like this. I just assumed you would not want me to, but of course, I should have asked. I was just… so angry. This first one clearly hurt her a great deal. The next four will all be at least this bad. Some will be worse."

"Pain relief," Harry said, fascinated and horrified. "You can give pain relief for the rest."

Afelgate waved a wand and Mouth went completely limp, barely moving at all as Afelgate brought the rest of the stones from her body and vanished them.

"Why were you angry?" Harry finally asked as the fifth stone was banished from existence with a terse flick of the healer's wand.

"What?" Afelgate said, looking surprised to be interrupted. "Oh, well, abortion is quite horrifying. That a healthy young witch would dare to end the life…."

He sighed and looked down. Mouth was still quite still, her feet still preposterously spread out in the metal contraptions. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be crying.

"Stop that," Harry snapped at her.

"Are you done checking her?" Harry asked Afelgate, who nodded.

"Fine," Harry snapped, and yanked at her till she got off the table. "Go sit on the couch."

She obeyed him and Harry turned to Hole, who walked toward the healer without being asked.

It didn't take long to check Hole, as he clearly didn't offer any particular sexual excitement for Afelgate. Harry did enjoy seeing his toy bent flat over the table, though, with the healer's gloved hand deep into his arse, checking for problems while the healer explained about the prostate to Harry.

Soon both toys were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, still nude and both looking downcast.

"The talk of those pregnancies, Mr Potter," Afelgate said seriously. "It brought things to mind." He shuddered. "We should probably put both of them in complete reproductive stasis."

"What would that mean?" Harry said, feeling curious.

"Well, they're both as fertile as any normal seventeen year old witch or wizard," Afelgate said, frowning. "You or a friend could get her pregnant."

"Oh!" Harry said, horrified.

"She isn't!" Afelgate reassured him. "I certainly checked. But she could easily _get_ pregnant. Also, she shows all signs of having a normal menstrual cycle. I assume you don't want her bleeding all over your house for two or three days every month?"

" _Fuck_ no," Harry said emphatically. "Turn that _off_!"

"For both of them?"

"Yes!" Harry agreed, nodding enthusiastically for good measure.

"Done," Afelgate said, and walked over to the couch. He had Hole stand and spread his legs, then took both of the slave's testicles in one hand and jabbed his wand toward them while muttering spells. Hole stood there, looking horrified, then he squealed with sudden pain and fell onto the couch, clutching at his balls.

"Good," Afelgate said grimly. Then he did similar things at Mouth's lower gut until she moaned out a deep sound of misery and herself collapsed onto the couch in a fetal position.

"That makes it clear that it worked," Afelgate said toward Harry. "Normally those spells are done under heavy sedation, but then the patient has to come back for multiple checkups over a three week period to make sure that the spells took, and about fifteen percent of the time, they don't. This way, when I hear the pain, I know it's nearly guaranteed." He frowned. "If your earlier offer has been withdrawn, Mr Potter, I completely understand."

Harry couldn't guess what on earth Afelgate was talking about for a moment, but then he remembered. The tip for good service! "Oh no, Afelgate, you deserve to fuck my slave more than ever. I'm going to need to watch, of course, but I know a good blurring charm for your modesty, if you like. Would you like her under _Imperius_ , so she can, shall we say, help you forget all the unpleasant things you had to do to her this afternoon?"

Afelgate looked hopeful, then pleased. "Honestly, that would be a hell of a thrill, Mr Potter. I'd appreciate that tremendously. And the modesty spell as well, please. I don't know any."

"Sure thing, healer," Harry said, and cast the blurring spell he'd learned from Scrivener at the healer's crotch. The fabric of his robe went fuzzy and indistinct, but when Afelgate parted his robe, the spell had transferred to the healer's brown trousers.

"Excellent," Harry said, and cast _Imperius_ at Mouth. "Seduce the Healer," he said, and slightly blank-eyed for a moment, Mouth rose. Her face began to take on a sultry cast.

"Hi there," she said quietly as she swayed up to Afelgate. "You know, a man like you, a professional and all, top of his game, I bet you've seen a lot of women's bodies."

She took his hand and put it on her naked waist. "Mr Potter was asking you before, you know, how I measure up? But I didn't really hear your answer." She pouted at him, and he melted a bit. Harry reached for his own crotch, then decided to cast his own blurring charm. Sufficiently obscured, he walked over to the couch and called Hole over to fondle his balls and breathe on his cock. He was going to do his best not to come until the healer had left the house.

"Well," Afelgate said, reaching for her breasts, caressing them eagerly, one in each hand now, "your tits are spectacular." He was significantly taller than Mouth, and he looked down past her face at her breasts. "But I might actually prefer your arse. Won't you lean down here on the table and let me get a good look at it?"

"Hell yeah," Mouth said, and hurried into the position he'd requested. Then she looked at him over her shoulder, her braid gone loose enough that her hair half covered one eye. "Like this, Sir?"

Afelgate walked over and reached for her arse again. "Damn right, girl," he said, and pulled his blurry cock out of his trousers with one hand while pulling at her arse cheeks and labia with the other.

"Your arse," he said, while rubbing it with his erection, "is fucking fantastic. Round and plump and fresh as a ripe peach. Merlin! I'm going to love looking at it while I ream your lovely tight cunt with my dick. And you are going to love this, aren't you, pretty whore?"

Mouth squirmed under his hand and cock. "Yes, Sir," she breathed out huskily, "please? I'll know you meant it all when you come in me. That's how I'll know I'm sexy."

"You're plenty sexy," Afelgate said, and shoved his cock all the way into her fanny. She squealed once, then started pushing back against him, using the medical table for leverage.

"Suck my dick, Hole," Harry said, unable to wait any longer, and Hole obeyed him slowly enough that Harry smacked him one across the ear.

While Hole half-heartedly licked at Harry's dick, Afelgate maneuvered Mouth into a standing position on a conjured stepstool. Once she was at the exact right height, Afelgate could thrust slowly into her while he stroked her clit with one hand and a tit with the other.

"You need a mirror," Harry decided for Afelgate, and conjured an enormous one on the wall in front of the pair.

"I look pretty good with your dick filling me up, Healer," Mouth sighed lustily, and Afelgate stared at his hands in the mirror, pulling his hand off Mouth's clit and changing the way he caressed her tits.

"Bitches always look better full of cock, little girl," the healer said, his voice dripping with superiority, and then he began to come inside her, making bellowing noises and quite putting Harry off his rhythm.

Luckily this made it easy to hold off his orgasm, and soon Afelgate was done, his spunk leaking down Mouth's leg, the red-faced healer buttoning up his robes, gathering his parchments and seeking a quick exit.

Harry had Kreacher show Afelgate to the Floo.

He reported, when asked, that Afelgate had Flooed not to Mungo's, but to what was almost certainly a private address.

Unable to discern why he felt furiously angry, Harry made Mouth stay right where she was, the _Imperius_ now lifted. She was forced to stare at herself in the mirror as the healer's sperm slid slowly down her leg and eventually made its way onto the floor.

Harry quickly tired of Hole's crappy blow job, and now that the healer was gone, he stripped all his clothing off quickly and bent Hole over the back of the couch. He turned the medical table back into a recliner, and once he stopped thinking about Afelgate and concentrated on Hole's tight arse and miserable grunts, he came quite quickly.

Sighing, Harry sent his slaves to their pallets in the basement, and once they were shackled into place, he called both of his house elves into the parlour.

He had wiped his dick on the tee shirt and indicated that the room needed to be tidied and the clothing cleaned, but asked Dudders and Kreacher to wait a bit before they got to work on those things.

"Do either of you," he said uncomfortably, "know any spells or magic for enlarging cocks?"


	7. Chapter 7

After his nap, Harry awoke with a prodigious erection. Stroking it lazily, he contemplated pissing, eating, fucking a slave, or possibly just going back to sleep.

"Kreacher," he sighed out softly, and Kreacher was there.

"Can you empty my bladder for me? My erection is kind of getting in the way, and I don't really feel like getting out of bed right now."

"Certainly, Kreacher can," the elderly house elf said, and he narrowed his eyes briefly and tipped his head very slightly to the left.

Harry felt Kreacher's magic working almost immediately, and it was almost extraordinary how good it felt. It was like pissing, while resting comfortably, staying cozy, and knowing he wasn't ruining his lovely warm bed. And he was still very, very hard.

"Damn, Kreacher, that was perfect," Harry cooed at his elf. He stroked his dick under the covers, not caring if Kreacher could tell. "Can Dudders do that? I'm going to want that magic all the time!"

"I'z will make sures Dudders learns this magic if he's does not already know it, Master Harry," Kreacher said. He looked quite pleased.

"I want a slave, Kreacher. Are they still shackled in the basement?"

"Yes, sir," Kreacher said. "Which slave should Kreacher bring for venerable Master to violate?"

"Heh," Harry said, smiling. "I love the way you talk about them. And hell, I don't know. What if I want both of them? I don't have any good ideas about how to fuck two slaves at once." He frowned.

Kreacher shuffled forward slightly. "Has Master considered one slave for his cock, one slave for his arsehole?"

"I don't have any intention of letting Hole's dick in my arse, Kreacher," Harry frowned.

"Certainly not, Master," Kreacher agreed easily. "But what about slave's tongue there?"

Harry thought about this for a moment. He'd told the Wizengamot elder he wanted his slaves to attend to his arsehole, but he hadn't actually done anything about it. _Licking_ him seemed a really weird thing to have one of them do, but also pretty intensely humiliating. And humiliating his slaves was proving to be the most sexually exciting part of having Malfoy and Parkinson at his mercy.

"I like it, Kreacher," Harry decided. "Thanks for the idea. Get them both up here immediately. Unchained, please."

"Master is too kind," Kreacher said, then hesitated. "The slaves will be here to serve your erection in seconds," he said, and then vanished after he saw Harry smile broadly.

Indeed, he returned with both slaves, one wrist in each of his hands, in mere seconds. Kreacher bowed and made to go, but Harry stopped him.

"Kreacher, hold on. Slaves, kneel down and wait."

Looking at each other first, the two sex slaves slowly got on their knees on the floor, scowling as they so often did.

"Kreacher, that last idea was excellent, so I am looking to see if you might have another."

Harry paused, and Kreacher misunderstood. "Sir, Dudders and I have been researching in Master's library, but we haz not yet found—"

"No, no," Harry said, still under the covers but now up on one elbow. He thought his erection might be losing a bit of steam, so he gestured for Hole to stick a hand under the covers and stroke him. "Something else entirely. I have noticed that these two are only enthusiastic about obeying when they are under _Imperius_ , and frankly, I'm tired of it. I was thinking that I should employ either a reward system, or a punishment one, and I wondered, as a servant yourself, what do you think would work better?"

Kreacher considered this for a moment, then spoke slowly. "Well Master, Dudders and Kreacher are house elves, who wish inherently to punish own selves if fail. But sex slaves is humans, and humans different. Perhaps opposite method would work better. Instead of self punish, perhaps _you_ should punish? Wait… no, perhaps that is what Master tries if rewards fail? Since slaves opposite, then _you reward_. That is full opposite of self punish."

Kreacher looked unsure for a moment, but Harry was musing over this. "Hm. Your logic sounds pretty good," he said out loud. Kreacher bowed. "The easiest thing would be to copy the reward system I already know. Hogwarts. The gems in the hourglasses."

Harry reached over to his bedside table and picked up his wand. Two hourglasses, much like the Hogwarts ones but about a third of the size, appeared on the wall. The top of one was full of pink gems, the other filled with blue. Harry waved his wand again, muttering, and fancy golden letters appeared, declaring the pink gems for Mouth and the blue for Hole. Harry smiled.

"There. Good idea Kreacher. I like it plenty so far. Mouth, Hole, those are for you. The first one to get all your gems into the bottom of the hourglass gets to request a boon. You'll earn gems by pleasing me. I'll also set it up so every time I come in you, you'll earn, say, five gems." He glared at both of them, and Hole was suddenly doing a far better job of stroking Harry's cock. "Nice move, Hole, I see this is working already. The rewards will be damn nice. I assure you. Like, I dunno, a whole day off, or maybe a chance to have tea with your mother." Their eyes lit up immediately, and Hole's hand began to stroke Harry's balls as well. "I'll let you suggest anything you want. That way I'll know what sorts of things will really motivate you."

Harry lay on his back and gestured for both slaves to stand and remove their chains and loincloths. "Thanks, Kreacher. I'll want to eat eventually, but for now, just go back to the library, all right? I really want that spell I asked you to find."

Sir," Kreacher said, and he was gone.

"Now," Harry said as his slaves climbed into the bed. "There's a part of my body that neither of you have given any attention to yet, and that's going to change now. Which one of you is going to kiss my arse?"

"You want to be rimmed?" Hole asked, back to stroking Harry's dick now that he was naked and under the covers.

"Is that what that's called?" Harry said. "Tell me about this." He rolled onto his side and Mouth cuddled her body against his back, almost as though she were cold. This rewards system thing was already awesome.

"That cuddling is very nice, Mouth," Harry said, feeling magnanimous. "So is this hand job. You each earn three gems."

All he had to do was say it, and six distinct little bells rang pleasantly on the wall in rapid succession. The slaves smiled, and they both got closer to him again. Mouth dragged her nipples along the skin of Harry's shoulders as Hole started to explain rimming, but he didn't get far before Harry needed to shove his dick into someone. That's when it got complicated, as both slaves, guaranteed five gems should Harry ejaculate inside them, tried to be the first to get onto their back, legs most enticingly open.

"Mouth's mouth first," Harry decided, going with the obvious, and quickly slid his cock deep into Hole's constantly magically prepared hole. "Kreacher has such good ideas," Harry sighed into Hole's neck, remembering where that idea had come from. He was already thrusting shallowly into Hole's body, but Mouth was determined, apparently, to earn her rewards too, and her hands were on his skin almost immediately.

Curious about this rimming thing, Harry lay down on Hole and let Mouth spread his arse cheeks apart. "I've never done this before," she confessed. "Could you, er…." She didn't seem to want to finish her thought, but - as usual - Harry was enjoying the humiliation aspect of this, so he wanted her to say it. He was pretty sure what she wanted, after all, and saying _that_ would probably be embarrassing.

"What?" he prompted, and she sighed.

"Would you please clean yourself, sir?" She was blushing slightly. "You were napping, not showering."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, now that she'd managed to state what she wanted, and he grabbed his wand and muttered a skin cleaning charm at his own arse. It tingled, but not for long, because once the magic had turned him from smelling like arse into smelling like clean skin and a slight touch of herbal soap, Mouth went to work on his arsehole in sudden, determined earnest.

"Holy fuck," Harry moaned, and - squirming slightly inside Hole's body to stimulate his dick as well as the electric and suddenly adored skin around his arsehole, he came harder than he'd ever come with either Mouth or Hole alone.

"Wow," one of his slaves said quietly, and Harry just lay limply in Hole's arms, feeling them both stroke him gently. The gems chimed their way into Hole's hourglass and Harry opened an eye. Five gems he had promised for an orgasm, and five gems had found their happy way into the bottom of Hole's hourglass. But being rimmed, might just, as it turned out, be the best way to come in the entire universe. "Eight gems for licking my arsehole until I come," Harry said weakly, and the gems obeyed his command.

"We'll be doing that again," Harry said happily, and both slaves giggled. Giggled! "I love this reward system," Harry said happily. "I want a nap. Nap with me. If I like having you in my bed, I'll reward you."

Harry fell asleep with his flaccid cock nestled in between Hole's arse cheeks. Mouth's lush tits were slowly caressing his back, and her fingers were running slowly through his hair.

A man could get used to this kind of sucking up, he decided as he drifted into dreams.


	8. Chapter 8

On Thursday Harry was sitting in the kitchen finishing a sandwich when Dudders suddenly appeared next to him, vibrating with excitement. Harry was reading a magazine and didn't notice Dudders at first, but then his elf coughed. Loudly. Harry dropped the magazine.

"What the hell, Dudders?"

"Master Harry!" Dudders said, bouncing a bit on the balls of his feet and looking like he wanted to pirouette, or at least bounce higher. "Master Harry, Kreacher he has founds it! He has found the magic Master Harry requested us to finds! Founds it in the Black family library he did! Just as you hoped us would!"

Allowing the elf to finish gushing, Harry nonetheless cracked a wide grin before he'd heard half. "Brilliant!" he told his elf. He snatched up the last bit of sandwich and — cramming it in his mouth — headed for the library, chewing rapidly, Dudders in tow.

"Kreacher!" he yelled as he opened the door. "Dudders gave me great news! Tell me what you found!"

Grinning enormously, Kreacher opened the book for Harry to read, but Harry indicated he wanted Kreacher's summary, so - looking a bit puffed at the attention - Kreacher began to explain what he had learned from the ancient tome hidden at the very bottom of a far, dusty shelf.

There was a potion. Kreacher was confident that he could easily obtain the ingredients and brew it that very day. It looked straightforward. Even simple. Nothing illegal or even unusual about it. Harry would slather the stuff on his dick and shove himself into a slave, preferably from behind, for reasons that would soon become clear.

A connection charm would need to be cast, but no other lube would be necessary. The potion would facilitate a swift orgasm and Harry would feel somewhat compelled to fuck his slave in something of a frenzy. This would tire him, and he should soon fall into a natural sleep.

As a consequence of the potion, and the orgasm, Harry's cock would grow. In a vagina, his cock would grow slightly fatter. In a rectum, his cock would grow slightly longer. With every orgasm, his cock would grow.

 _His_ sleep would be peaceful and comfortable, but not so for the slave. The person who first applied the potion would find it soothing and pleasant, but the second person involved would find that the salve was actually irritating. First the Master's fucking motions, and then the Master's sperm would mask this effect, but as the Master slept and his cock expanded within him or her, the slave's delicate membranes would become slightly irritated, then more irritated, and finally the slave would be completely unable to sleep, no matter how tired.

Now awake and uncomfortable, the slave would be unable to stay still, and would squirm uncomfortably around the Master's flaccid penis. The connection charm would keep the Master well inserted into the slave, however. So what would otherwise have resulted in separation, would here naturally result in the Master getting another erection, and the cycle would begin again. The Master would wake already fucking his slave, and would find himself ejaculating within Hole or Mouth perhaps as many as five or six times in one night. In the morning, he could break the connection charm, and admire his visibly larger dick in the shower as he washed off the potion. One night in a fanny, one night in an arse, and Harry Potter's dick would be a great deal bigger than it currently was.

"Permanently?"

"Permanently," Kreacher said, and bowed to Harry; his proud grin only invisible when his bow became nearly complete.

"Go buy the ingredients, Kreacher!"

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Kreacher hadn't said it was necessary, but Harry figured if he was going to be coming all night, he probably shouldn't come _until_ night.

At first he attempted to distract himself with magazines, but that didn't work at all. He didn't have a telly, which he thought perhaps he should do something about, but not today. Today he was so randy and jumpy he'd probably try to fuck any Muggle sales clerk that made to sell him a telly, and that might be a bad scene.

After an hour of grumpy boredom, he realized he had two trunks full of dress up sex clothes for his slaves, much of which he'd never had them try on.

"All right you two," Harry said, settling himself in his one comfortable bedroom armchair. "Open those trunks. Set everything you've already shown me onto my bed. Then take whatever is next. You're both going to show me every single thing Kreacher picked up the other week."

Mouth was dressed first. Hole was struggling with a bunch of twisted chain and tiny leather buckles. Impatient, Harry called Dudders to help.

But Mouth had pulled a silken nightie out of her trunk, and that was a simple thing for her to slip on over her head.

Harry couldn't have told you what colour it was, some sort of pink, maybe. But in his opinion it was a good colour for _her_. He stood up and took the two steps to crowd her against the bed.

"Mm," he said, reaching for one of her tits. The silken fabric moved fluidly between her round breast and his hand. Mouth tried to hide a flinch. Her smile was quite fake.

Harry knew he was a short man, but Mouth was shorter than he was, and he liked that. She was short enough that her arse actually fell below his hand, when they stood next to each other shoeless. He put a hand on her waist and caressed her. "We're keeping this," he declared, and motioned for her to remove it. Dudders had finished strapping Hole into his costume, so Harry told him to put the nightie into a "keep" pile and he turned to examine his other slave.

He looked quite ridiculous. His flaccid penis had been fed through a large bronze ring, and the color wasn't good for him. Similar bronze rings sat over his nipples, and another lay over his arse cheeks. The rings were all connected with black leather straps riddled with multiple, superfluous studs that didn't seem to do anything, though upon closer examination Harry realized that some of them were holding the leather together in a loop that held one of the rings. This meant that sixteen of the many dozens of bronze studs were doing something of use, but all the rest were there simply for show.

Staring at his slave, Harry decided that the strappy leather concoction was lousy, but with magic, he might be able to improve it. He didn't know how to change colours, but lucky for him, he had a pair of excellent house elves.

"Dudders," Harry said slowly. "These colours are shit. Can you turn the black leather more… I don't know… blonde?"

Dudders looked uncertain, but he raised his hairy hands and the leather began to lose its deep, overdyed hue. Looking at his Master, Dudders saw approval, and the colour faded from the leather even faster. Eventually the heavy leather was a pale, nearly white tone, and Harry clapped his hands.

"Perfect!" he exclaimed, and his house elf grinned nervously. "Now fix the metal. Pale gold, please, Dudders."

This Dudders was able to accomplish with a finger snap, and Harry looked closely at his work. "I like it," he said authoritatively. "Now I want all the extra studs gone, just smooth leather left behind. Very plain."

Dudders obeyed this particular order slowly, carefully checking every stud before vanishing it or moving on, so Harry turned back to Mouth, who was now garbed in a floor length pale blue gown that not only left her shoulders nearly bare, but most of her breasts as well.

"Hm," Harry said speculatively, and reached into the dress to cup one of Mouth's large tits. He stroked her nipple, which hardened immediately.

"I'm not sure," he said, letting go of her. "Turn around and show me the back."

Mouth did so and Harry whistled in appreciation. The front of the gown was opaque, but the entire back was transparent, and Mouth's luscious round arse was easily seen through the one shimmery layer of pale blue. Harry reached out to test the fabric, for if it was smooth he was definitely keeping this thing, and that fabric parted under his hand. There was no seam up the back of the dress. And so while Mouth's tits were fully on display from the front, her arse was not only visible through the fabric, but Harry wouldn't even have to throw fabric up over his whore's head to fuck her, were she wearing this thing. He could simply move the two sides apart, part her cheeks and slip his dick into her waiting body.

He had a sudden vision of her serving him dinner in the dress, and him turning her into the second course, right there over the table.

Unable to help himself, he stroked his erection and whined a bit. It was going to be hard to wait to come unto the fucking potion was complete. A bigger dick was worth the wait, though, even if he was tormenting himself with beauty while he waited for bedtime.

"Take it off and put it in the keep pile," he said roughly, and turned to Hole.

Dudders was done fixing the outfit, and Harry smiled. "That's more like it," he said to quietly, and Dudders bowed, relief on his face.

Harry reached out, curious, and stroked his slave's cock. It was completely limp at the moment, but the slave gasped a bit at the contact nonetheless. "So soft," Harry murmured. "Just like the bitch's tits." Then he stroked Hole's balls, and frowned.

"I don't like his pubes," he told his elf. "They're rough. Wiry. Can you get rid of them?"

Dudders looked blank for a moment, then shook his head sadly. "Kreacher can helps you?" he said, and Harry called for Kreacher, who removed all of Hole's pubic hair with one snap of his fingers.

"Very good," Harry said to his elf, who bowed. "Now teach him how, so he can get rid of hers."

Soon both slaves were not only nude, their genitals were completely hairless. Amused, Harry had his elves depilate both slaves everywhere else as well, until they both had no hair around their arseholes, on their legs, around their nipples, or on their faces. Pleased, Harry pulled both his slaves close, in what might have looked like a hug. He stroked their backs and arses firmly, enjoying their silken skin.

"Keep them like this until I tell you different," Harry told his elves. Then he had both the dress and leather strappings added to the "keep" pile.

"Let's see what else we've got!" Harry said, rubbing his hands together.

By the time they'd gone through the entire trunk, it was time for dinner, and Harry's cock and balls ached.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Deciding he wanted a longer cock first, Harry came inside Hole at least six times that night. That morning he carefully measured his cock. Then he made Mouth measure it. Then he had the elves do it. When everyone agreed that he'd gone from just over five inches long to seven, Harry awarded Hole fifteen gems, allowed Dudders to heal the slave's arsehole, and then sent him to bed, where - exhausted from his ordeal - Hole did not awaken for well over four hours.

They ate lunch together that day, all three of them. Dudders had made a simple spaghetti dish, one Harry very much liked. The slaves were not allowed seconds as Harry wanted them both to stay thin. "I wonder if this is really what I should be feeding you," he mused out loud. They both looked at their plates. "I'll ask the healer tomorrow," he decided. "Kreacher, bring me those photos Mungos owled. I need to tell them which healer is prettier."

That night Harry coated his cock with salve, slid his dick deep into Mouth's fanny, and managed to cast the connection charm between them before he was swept into a frenzy of delicious fucking. He pulled her close so he could feel her tits in his hand, the slave felt slightly tingly on his erection, and her increasing reactions as she writhed and muttered through her elevating discomfort were easy to reclassify as sexual excitement and response. Tired, he pretended she loved it and fell asleep shortly after ejaculating what felt like cups and cups of come.

His ejaculate, as promised, soothed her irritated vaginal walls, and for a while, Mouth slept as well.

But by the time they woke in the morning, Harry sporting a far fatter cock and a new attitude to match, Mouth was as miserable and exhausted as Harry had ever seen her.

"Sleep well," he told her. "You have six hours till the healer gets here. And I'm going to offer you up to lick her fanny, so you'd better be well rested and eager by then."

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, this isn't "finished." I might fix that someday!


End file.
